TTYL:Trash Talk You Later
by KenpoChick
Summary: The PC's back together and Massie's life is finally perfect at last! But when a new girl comes and tries to steal the alpha spot from Massie, will she get it back or is this the end of the PC's rule for good? Rated T for language.
1. The Prologue

TTYL: Trash Talk You Later

*This story's set after Boys R Us. If you haven't read it, there will be spoilers.

DISCLAIMER: The characters don't belong to me, they belong to Lisi Harrison (sadly:()

*This is a story I started before which I didn't get very far in, revamped and redone. Enjoy!

Massie Block: The Pretty Committee's back and everything's more ah-mazing than ever! Massie finally has everything: the PC, her new C-Plus, Landon, and an all-girls OCD once again. Plus, she's having the Sweet 14 of a lifetime, complete with a party to rival all others, and a PC-only trip to Jamaica for winter break. But, what happens when a new girl shows up, one who has no respect for the PC or Massie? She's out like last season's Gucci, right? Opposite of yes! Suddenly the whole school's wrapped around the new girl's finger, and Massie has to fight for her rightful place as Alpha again! Will she be able to knock the new girl off her throne?

Alicia Rivera: Can finally shine as a dancer, now that Skye Hamilton's off to Alpha Academy. But, everything becomes perfect, when she gets an ah-mazing opportunity as a reporter! There's just one little catch: she needs the new girl to win her chance at stardom, and Massie's made it clear-you associate with her, you're out of the PC. But, Alicia never gives up...

Dylan Marvil: Finally thin! But, when she dropped weight, Derrington dropped her. Still, who cares? Guys are after her, like Alicia after vintage Ralph! She's got her eye on a gorgeous rebel boy, but he thinks she's just another MassieDroid. So, Dylan's determined to show her individuality...but she may have to lose her favorite Alice+Olivia top for a while.

Kristen Gregory: Is with Dempsey and loving it! But, turns out Massie hasn't quite forgiven her for the crush-stealing yet. So, when she lands herself on 'PC Probation', and Massie makes fun of her for being '4 letter word for lack of funds', Kristen's had it. Will she leave the PC, for good?

Claire Lyons: When Hollywood knocks on her door with a NAI (New And Improved Offer), Claire's psyched! A shoot in New York, with no foreign countries or far-away friends! But, how do Massie and the PC congratulate her? Massie spreads a nasty rumor about her, and the PC makes fun of her. Will Claire go over to the new girl?

What did ya think? Review, Chapter 1 comes out soon!


	2. Frozen Hair, Parties, and the New Girl

Chapter 2:

Westchester, NY

The Block Estate

Monday, January 23rd

7:32 AM

"Kuh-laire!" Massie yelled, as she headed towards the Range Rover. Just because Claire was obsessed with texting Cam did nawt mean Massie was going to be late. Besides, the carpool schedule was important. It was perfectly designed so there was just enough time to gossip, compare outfits and makeup, and finish any assignments last-minute (thought that last one was mostly Kristen).

"I'm coming! Give me five minutes!" Claire chorused for the two-hundredth time that morning. Claire was texting Cam, as usual. That was all she ever did, talk with Cam, hang out with Cam, text Cam, e-mail Cam, or worse, talk about Cam. It wasn't that Massie was jealous or anything, it was just it might be nice to talk about something other than your friend's boyfriend and all the funny things he said.

"Whatever, Kuh-laire. I'm leaving in three, with or without you." Surprisingly, her threat worked. Claire rushed out, her wet hair practically freezing before Massie's eyes.

"Uh, Kuh-laire, are you a cake?"

"Um, no." Claire replied distractedly, not even caring. It made Massie mad. Why was she even wasting a good comeback on her? But, maybe a good comeback was just what Claire needed. Maybe it would make Claire realize that Massie was an amazing alpha, that she'd totally lagged behind in the new Pretty Committee, and would make her grovel for forgiveness.

"Then why are is your hair frosting?"

Claire tugged at her icy hair. "Oh, Cam texted when I was going to blow dry. Don't worry, it'll melt once I get in the Range Rover."

Massie gaped. Letting your hair ice over _because it would melt _wasn't just a cry for help, it was a sign that intervention was needed. So, Massie grabbed Claire's beat up red Swarovski-crystal Dial L phone, despite Claire's protests.

"Hey, give that back! Cam and I were talking-" But, Claire stopped as Massie punched the button that called the number you were texting, and Cam's voice came out of the phone at Massie's ear. "Hey, Claire, is something wrong? You never replied to my last-"

Massie broke in, "This isn't Claire, it's Massie. Claire had to go do her hair, so she told me to say good-bye for her. So, buh-bye." Cam disappointedly mumbled back a goodbye, and Massie snapped the phone shut and threw it in her Chanel tote.

"What did you do that for?" Claire's blue eyes were filled with tears, though Massie wasn't sure if it was from the phone thing or the fact that it was 3 degrees outside and her head was freezing.

"Look, Kuh-laire, this is OCD, nawt-" Massie was about to say ADD, but then she remembered she didn't really think that the place was that bad anymore. Sure she wouldn't go there if they started handing out the new Marc Jacobs line, but the people there weren't that bad, especially Landon. Landon Crane was an ah-dorable high- school guy from ADD, who she met at her Ho Ho Homeless charity event. Not only was he cute, smart, and funny, he had a pug too, a boy named Bark Obama. He was her new C-Plus, just like Bark Obama was Bean's. She thought for a second before continuing, "Nawt some school for LBRs. The PC needs to stay on top, and we can nawt have you showing up looking like a snowman, just because Cam texted you. You see him, you call him, you talk to him a thousand times a day. Get over it."

Just then, Isaac finally came by with the Range Rover, and Massie and Claire leapt inside. As Massie sat and drank a vitamin water, Claire began attempting to fix her hair, trying to use a thick wire brush to shake off the ice. By the time Dylan climbed in, Claire's hair was partially icy and mostly a soggy mess.

"Wow, what's with _that _catastrophe?" Dylan gaped.

"Pay no attention to her. Hopefully it will look halfway decent by the time we're at school." Dylan shrugged, but still stared. But, Massie started talking about the latest addition to the mall, and Dylan stopped paying attention.

As Alicia got into the Range Rover, she seemed worried. Massie wasn't sure why. Alicia looked great, she was (as far as Massie knew) still dating Josh Hotz, and she was anchor of OCD's lunchtime report. What was wrong with her life?

"What's wrong, Ah-licia?"

Alicia looked up and said absentmindedly, "Um, I just heard some gossip, that's all. Tell you when Kristen's in the car."

Massie knew she could have tempted it out of her with gossip points, but she decided not to. After all, it would save time filling in Kristen later. But, it sparked her curiosity, and as Kristen got in the car, she was practically dying to find out what had _Alicia _so worried.

Kristen climbed in, shucking off the ugly knee-length khaki and purple fuzz sweater for the cute outfit underneath. Massie turned towards Alicia, "Ok Leesh, what was it that was sooo important?"

"Well, I heard from Parker Rosewood that there was someone moving into the old Mackenzie house, and they had an 8th grader with them."

"So?" Massie rolled her eyes. Why couldn't Alicia just get to the point already?

"An 8th grade _girl_. Coming to OCD." Alicia bit her lip, and turned to look at the others. They all seemed to have similar looks of indifference, waiting to see their alpha's opinion on the matter. But, Massie just sat there, thinking about it for a few seconds.

_A new girl_, Massie thought, _Well, maybe a few weeks ago that would have scared me, but the PC's back now. I'm back now! What new girl could possibly change that? _Then, Massie turned to the rest of the group, gave them a confident smirk, and burst out laughing. One by one, all but Alicia started laughing along with Massie, like they'd just received the funniest text ever. Alicia just sat there with a dejected look on her face, obviously wounded by the reaction to her gossip.

Massie looked over at Alicia, not eager to soothe her wounded ego in the least, "Whatever, Ah-licia. I mean, come awn, a new girl? After all, our last new girl _was _Kuh-laire. No offense." But, Claire hadn't heard. She was too busy trying to find the cell phone in Massie's purse. Whatever. If Claire didn't bother listening, she deserved to be called an LBR.

"Kuh-laire! Are you a flight attendant?"

Claire looked up shamefully from the bag. 'Uh, n-no."

Massie raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, "Then why are you checking my bags?"The Pretty Committee laughed, and Massie turned away from Claire. "Isaac, drop us off around back. We need to do an outfit check before we go in." The Range Rover veered, and parked on the other side of the building.

Massie turned towards the rest of the Pretty Committee. "Ok, who's up first?" she said coolly. She could go first, but true alphas never did. Why go first when you can do it better the second time? It was too cold to rate outfits outside, so they'd use the spacious Range Rover as a runway.

Dylan stepped up, removing her cropped bomber jacket to reveal her outfit. Massie started, acting as if she was an E reporter on the red carpet, critiquing the stars' style, "And first up, we have Dylan Marvil looking fabulous in an Alice and Olivia white halter with skinny distressed dark-wash Sevens and gorgeous black Louboutins to complete the look. A great blowout, good makeup, and...a size 2?" Dylan nodded proudly. Now Massie noticed the obvious weight drop that Dylan had after break. Massie was impressed; after years of dieting Dylan had finally done it. Massie continued, "complete the look. 9.4 for you."

Dylan smirked proudly, and Alicia stepped forward, twirling like a model on the runway, "And next up we have the ever-fashionable Alicia Rivera, looking flirty-classic as usual in a Ralph Lauren button down, with a Black Label Vest over the top, and Marc by Marc Jacobs brown slacks. Completing the look with gold heels and a fun side pony, you score a 9.2."

Alicia smiled, and Kristen sat up, preparing for her critique, "Now, Kristen Gregory steps forward, rocking a marc by Marc Jacobs white tank with a cropped black bomber jacket, with a denim Juicy skirt and black boots . Completes the look with long waves, and a touch of makeup. Congrats, you are a 9."

Claire turned towards them warily, and Massie began, "And now we have Kuh-laire Lyons, wearing an Estrella by Nanette Lepore top hand-me-down, loaned distressed Joie dark jeans, and white sparkly Chuck Taylors. Completing the look with frizzy, wet, unstyled, hair, you get a 7.9."

The Massie stepped forward happily, ready to announce her own outfit, "And last but not least, Massie Block comes out in a purple Stella McCartney jersey dress, with gray leggings and black ankle boots to complete the look. Hair in a low chignon with chandelier earrings."

Alicia responded, "9.8, definitely."

Massie glanced over, "How could I make it a ten?"

Alicia shrugged, "A touch more gloss."

Massie quickly glanced in the mirror, and started applying more of her Lindt Truffle Glossip Girl. Then, she turned to face the rest of the Pretty Committee, "Ok, we strut in to the beat of Tik Tok by Keisha. Let's go." And they all stepped out of the Range Rover, ready to face OCD.

Ah, lunch, the best part of any day. Massie and the rest of the PC sat at their usual table in the New Cafe, ignoring the envious stares coming their way. Massie glanced around at the other tables, and stage whispered, "Ok, now that we're at lunch, let's talk about my Sweet 14."

Kristen raised her eyebrows, "A Sweet 14? You know it's usually 16 ri-"

Massie interrupted, "Look, Kristen, it's two years until my sixteenth, and that's way too far away. Plus, this will just clinch that the PC is back and ready to rule the 8th grade. Get it?"

Kristen nodded, as Alicia added, "Besides, you really shouldn't interrupt, considering you're-"

Massie glared at Alicia, and looked over at Kristen's confused face, "Ok, how can I put this? The rest of us talked about the whole Dempsey situation, and decided it was a major violation to go steal my crush." Kristen tried to cut in, but Massie continued, "So, good news, you can stay with Dempsey, but bad news, you're on PC Probation."

Alicia continued, "This means you'll have to eat lunch at a different table twice a week, a table approved by all of us, you can't borrow any of our clothes, shoes, makeup, or money, unless you submit a written request a week beforehand. And you have to do anything we say, no questions asked. More details later."

Kristen bit her lip, but Massie turned away, and continued talking, "Anyway, my party's going to be huge. It's going to be held at our estate, of course. The guest list is the entire 8th grade and select Briarwood boys."

Dylan frowned, "But why? Why invite LBRs?"

This was Massie's weak point. Her parents had only consented to paying for the party if Massie invited her entire class, plus a few of their friends' kids for good measure. Massie had agreed, but only because she knew she wouldn't be having her party if she wouldn't. She thought for a second before lying, "It would be the thrill of a lifetime for LBRs to go to a party like this. Let's go on. The party will be divided into five sections, one for each member of the PC." The girls shrieked, all except Claire that is, who was texting Cam under the table.

"You'll each get some say on what goes in your section, but remember, it's _my_ party, and I have final say on everything. I've already prepared outlines for each area." She pulled out the sketches her party planner had done after listening to her requests. For Dylan, we have a Nobu sushi bar, three chocolate fountains, and a giant buffet with food from 8 of my favorite restaurants. Plus, there's an exclusive Dylan bag, with a bunch of Alice+Olivia and Betsey Johnson comps."

Dylan smiled and said, "Good with me. Just make sure the buffet has low-cal options. I've just bought all these size twos, and I can't let them go to waste."

"And for Alicia, we have an exclusive Ralph Lauren spring line fashion show. I told Dorsey not to hire any models, because I figured you'd want to do it. You could even invite Duh-livia, if you really wanted to. The clothes will be split among the five of us. Scratch that, four." Kristen's face fell. "Sorry, probation rules. Anyway, the bags given to the public will have Theory, Marc Jacobs, and Angel. Plus, you'll be our official reporter. I want to commemorate the occasion, so you'll host and do interviews and stuff."

Alicia's face lit up, "Sounds ah-mazing! And no, I'm not inviting Faux-livia. I don't really like her anymore." Alicia glanced over at the loser table, where Kori, Strawberry, and Olivia sat, staring at them enviously.

Massie smiled; she'd never really liked Olivia. Then, she continued, "As for Kristen, you get the backyard. It'll be sports heaven-the whole lawn will be transformed into a soccer field, and the pool will get a special wave pool attachment for surfing." Massie glared at Kristen, "I thought you'd still be with Dune when I made the plans. Oh, and there'll be lots of free trends, because you know you can't afford them." Massie added the jab casually, before she turned back to the wide-eyed girls.

"And for Claire, there will be sixteen different types of gummies and a special screening of Dial L. Tons of fans to jump all over you. Layne will be allowed to do all the exclusive things, except my surprise. Some things must be kept sacred." Massie had thought long and hard about the Layne thing, but she figured it would just get her out of Massie's way if she hung out with Claire all night. "There will also be a kissing booth, you know, for you and Cam." Claire, who was finally listening, blushed, and nodded excitedly.

"Last but definitely not least is my section. The entire house will be turned into a dance floor, and I've got the Jonas Brothers, Taylor Swift and Lady GaGa playing my party." Massie was lucky she'd booked the acts before her purple streak expired. They had agreed to honor the commitment, mostly because the Blocks had paid them tons of money. "There will be food, bags filled with Stella McCartney, Hard Candy, and BCBG. It will also be the sight of my huge cakes by the way, red velvet, triple chocolate, and cheesecake. That will also be where I accept presents. Now, for the big surprise, my present for you..."

But Massie's words trailed off as she looked at the door, and who was standing there. The whole room had become silent, as they stared in fascination at the girl walking in. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair so light it verged on white, with hazel eyes that seemed to sparkle in the light. She wore a gorgeous blue BCBG halter dress, that went perfectly with the white leggings underneath and the blue ballet flats. She wore a fitted leather jacket over the top, which seemed to match perfectly, even though it didn't. Her hair had a single electric blue streak through it, which made her look exotic and different. She exuded confidence and style, an amused smirk across her face as she walked down the aisle to sit at an empty table. Two girls who had strolled in behind her sat down on either side, and instantly, girls went to sit by her. This was Myra Ostenburg, the new girl that Massie had written off as an LBR.

How do you think it's going? Chapter 2 will come out in a week or so: The response to the new girl's arrival, Alicia's point of view! R&R and I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Myra and the Microphone

Chapter 3

Westchester, NY

The New Cafe

Monday January 23rd

12:52 PM

Alicia was just as captivated by Myra as all the other girls in the New Cafe were. She had the kind of confidence that Alicia had only ever seen in one person: Massie. She just seemed so...alpha. Alicia only snapped out of it when Massie's voice screeched into her thoughts, "Who is _that_?"

Alicia raised an eyebrow; how could Massie not have figured out? "That's the new girl, the one I was telling you about this morning."

Massie glared at the new girl, then turned her attention towards her two followers, "Is _that _Beach Bum Baker?" Alicia looked at the pretty girl Massie was squinting at. She had long windswept brunette hair and emerald green eyes, and wore a micro-mini skirt, even though it was January. It _was _Juliette Baker, who the PC had always called Beach Bum Baker. Juliette was the youngest and only girl in her family, and her hawt older brothers regularly graced the cover of Sports Illustrated, shirtless. She would have probably been totally popular, but she was too much of a tomboy. Juliette was obsessed with surfing, hence the nickname. It was hard to believe the sleek-looking girl who sat next to Myra was really her.

Dylan gasped as she pointed at the other girl, "And is that...Trina Babko?"

Kristen rolled her eyes, "No way is that _her_. Trina had a bowl cut, blackheads, and...That _is _her!" Alicia looked over, and saw that it was Trina sitting on the other side. Trina was the daughter of a big businessman, but apparently even Daddy's money couldn't buy her style. Growing up she had a bowl cut, braces, acne, and a huge blabbermouth. Now, she had long flowing black hair, skin most girls would die for, and a perfect, silent, smile.

Dylan bit her lip, "When did all the LBRs get so pretty?"

Massie shook her head, and smiled in a bemused way, "Can't you see? They're all just makeup and trends. There's no alpha substance behind any of that, none of what the Pretty Committee has. Trust me, the new girl and her FLBRs won't change a thing." After a minute of confused glances, she added, "FLBRs. You know, former losers beyond repair."

Alicia nodded, and Massie continued, "Alicia. Get over there and get some gossip on the new girl. Names, facts, secrets, anything."

Alicia frowned; she didn't want to have to be in Massie's line of fire once she delivered the dirt. "Why not you or Dylan or somebody?"

Massie glared at her, "Because Ah-licia, you're our school reporter. It won't seem weird if _you_ ask her questions about herself."

Alicia shrugged, and got up to move to Table 9. She squeezed her way in across from the new girl and her FLBRs. Beach Bum was right in the middle of some story, which was, naturally, about surfing. "So I'm, like, out on the waves, right? And I see, like, this giant jelly right beneath me. So, everyone else runs out screaming, but I keep on going, because I've dealt with jellies before. Then, like, this little girl got stung, and I like-"

Alicia couldn't take it anymore, and suddenly cut in, "Hi! I'm Alicia Rivera, OCD's head news anchor. I heard you're new, and I decided I'd like to do a little segment on you for today's broadcast, you know. A little get-to-know-you for you and OCD."

The girl smiled at Alicia pleasantly, and replied, "Hi, I'm Myra Ostenburg. Thanks for the welcome. Everyone here has been _so _nice." She held out a hand to shake, but Alicia looked away. Who shook hands anymore, anyway?

Alicia fake smiled, and said, "Thanks. Well, anyway, I have a few questions for you. First of all, where are you from?"

Myra seemed to get wistful as she answered, "Denver. I loved it _soooo_ much there, with all the snow, and the mountains and-"

"Ok, next question. Why are you here?" Myra seemed to frown, and Alicia tried not to giggle, "I mean, why did you move here?"

Myra relaxed, "Oh, my mom was looking for a change of pace, and found an office in New York. she heard the schools were nice here, so we moved to Westchester." Myra then angelically smiled, making Alicia feel a bit sick.

"What are your hobbies?"

"I love skating and soccer. Plus, there's swimming, and drama and-" Alicia tuned her out for a minute, and tried to look interested as she considered the information. She had all the essentials, yet she had _nothing_. Sure she lived in Colorado and liked to play soccer, but there was no blackmail-worthy dirt.

"So how do you like it here at OCD?"

Myra leaned forward a little, and said, ""You want to know the truth? What does OCD _really_ stand for? Obsessed Couture Droids? I mean, honestly, your entire outfit costs more than a used car, not that you don't look great. I've never seen anyone as obsessed with trends as girls here, except my mom and her friends! Plus, some of the people here are a bit...odd. Like that girl over there. Looks like she wants to murder me." Myra pointed straight at Massie, who was glaring at them in the most obvious way possible.

Just then, Massie stood up, and the rest of the PC followed suit. Massie strode over towards the table, calling, "Come on, Ah-licia! Time to go!"

Myra looked up at her, "You don't really have to go, do you? Not just because that girl tells you to?"

Alicia half-shrugged apologetically, "Sorry, I do. See you around." Alicia expected that to be the end of it. But then Massie came up to introduce herself.

Massie looked at Myra like she was a piece of roadkill, then said coldly, "Hello, _new girl._ My name is Massie Block. You might want to remember it, if you know what's good for you." Everything about the way she was acting suggested that she thought Myra was about as significant as a used tissue. Then, Massie turned away without a second glance, as if to say their one-sided conversation was over. Dylan giggled and whispered something to Massie, who smirked and pointed backwards. It was clear her fifteen minutes of alpha were over.

But then Myra stood up, crossed her arms, and cocked one blonde eyebrow. Massie somehow knew, and turned to look at her. Then, Myra said, in an icy tone with a glare that, if looks could kill, would make a smoldering crater where Massie once stood, replied, "First, it's Myra Ostenburg, not the new girl. And I think I know what's better for me than a stuck-up bitch, thanks very much. So, adios, _Mashie_." Then, Myra turned on her heel and strode out of the cafeteria without a backwards glance, half the New Cafe following after her. But, a furious and embarrassed Massie still stood there, telling all of them she'd teach that little LBR that she couldn't call Massie Block a stuck-up bitch and get away with it.

* * *

As Alicia left the Range Rover that afternoon, she breathed a sigh of relief. It had been so uncomfortable today. After the little spectacle in the lunchroom, Massie hadn't really talked very much. Some would say this was embarrassment, that after being called a bitch in front of the whole school Massie was just feeling bad. But, Alicia knew her alpha, and that wasn't it. This was the calm before the storm, and Massie was just plotting the new girl's destruction.

As Alicia strode towards the open mailbox, she gave a little shriek. There was a large blue envelope with an official-looking seal on the back, and Alicia was hoping it was the letter she'd wanted desperately to arrive over the past two weeks. As she yanked it out of the mailbox, she glanced at the sender's name. It read:

_Golden Microphone Awards_

_Karen Theodore_

_President_

Alicia squealed, and ran inside as she tore it open, and read:

_Dear Miss Rivera,_

_We received your submission for the Golden Microphone Awards, and are delighted to inform you that we have chosen you as one of our top ten semi-finalists. _

Yes! Alicia was thrilled. At first, entering the competition had been daunting. The Golden Microphones were a prestigious group of broadcasters who gave out an award to one 8th-12th grade reporter every year, an award that opened every door you could think of in journalism. Barbara Walters, Katie Couric, Meredith Viera, all Golden Microphone winners! But, Alicia was competing against people who had tons of screen experience and had trained for this their whole lives. Then, Alicia remembered that _she_ was Alicia Rivera. She had been on the Daily Grind, she had been in a Teen Vogue shoot, and she _was_ a reporter, training or no training. So, she sent in a tape of one of her best broadcasts, and crossed her fingers. Alicia continued reading:

_Your impressive resume and serious but light-hearted broadcast made you a wonderful choice. We hope you choose to continue on with the competition from this point. Our final challenge is for you to present us with a 30-minute broadcast about your life. This broadcast has to resemble a real news broadcast, with a main story, some fun fluff, and important events. This broadcast can be geared completely around you, or can be focused on friends or your school. You will present this video to us at the final meeting in New York on March 14th. Congratulations, and may the best anchor win! _

Alicia smiled; this was right up her alley. Do some pieces about PC stuff, fashion, and OCD news and she was set. But, what would her main story be about? The main story had to say _I know a good story when I see it_, nawt _I'm a loser who has no good dirt_. Plus, she had to be able to record the whole thing unfolding. Then, she saw the camera Massie gave her to record the party sitting on the table, and the little light went off inside her head. Wasn't most news about war? And OCD was about to see a huge war, the fight between the newcomer and the alpha. Alicia smirked and sauntered upstairs to start planning. This would be the biggest story the Golden Microphones, OCD, and the world had ever seen. She'd make sure of it.

* * *

As Alicia waltzed into Body Alive Dance Studio, she felt on top of the world. She had the perfect story, and she was going to dance, where she was alpha. Skye Hamilton used to be top of the class, but everything changed once she went off to that Alpha Academy place everyone was talking about. Now Skye was off dancing her heart out on some private island, and Alicia was _finally _the best dancer in Westchester, and she was loving every minute of it. No stupid know-it-all dance alpha to correct her pencil turn, to outdo her in a jazz routine, to steal the spotlight just because she was the owner's daughter.

But, then Alicia saw the girl stretching near the wall, talking with Duh-livia. The blonde hair with the blue streak was the dead giveaway as to who it was. Alicia raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. Myra Ostenburg was a dancer? She strutted over towards Myra and called out, fake smiling, "Hey! What an ah-mazing surprise!"

Myra turned around and grinned, "Oh, hi! Yeah, I heard this was the best place in town so I signed up for classes."

Alicia frowned in mock-concern, "Are you a beginner? Because, you know, this might nawt be the best class for a newbie, it's very-"

Myra cut her off, "Oh, don't worry. I _know _how to dance. I've been taking the lessons for years, to compliment my figure skating."

Alicia nodded, inwardly rolling her eyes. She'd known many girls who took ballet for skating help. They all must have left all that beauty and grace on the ice, because they _sucked_. Luckily, Alicia would still be the best.

Just then, their teacher arrived, and greeted them all, "Hello, young dancers. As you can see, we have a new arrival, Miss Ostenburg. So, who'd like to teach her the warm-up routine?" Duh-livia raised her hand like she was being picked to be on a game show, and Madame pointed at her, "Miss Ryan, take her in the corner and show her. The rest of you, come up and do barre exercises. Miss Rivera, front of the line." A few girls grumbled in jealousy, and Alicia stifled a giggle. The front was positioned for a perfect view of Myra and Olivia, and she was sure this would be fun to watch.

Olivia started a technically good, but lifeless, version of the routine. Myra followed but there was something that was different about hers. It was _better. _The turns were tighter, the kicks were sharper, and it had personality. Sure, she didn't know the whole thing, but she ahb-viously knew what she was doing. Which meant there was competition for dance alpha, again. Crap.

Madame obviously saw it too, because then she said, "Excellent, Miss Ostenburg! You picked that up quickly. How long have you been taking lessons?"

Myra smiled and replied, "Oh, for like nine years. I started dance before I started skating." So, Alicia had had it all wrong. She wasn't a skater turned dancer, she was a dancer turned skater, a completely different breed.

Madame pointed towards the spot just behind Alicia, "Well, there's your spot. Treat it well." Alicia sighed in relief, then realized something: Myra wouldn't be able to pass her in class for weeks. She didn't know any routines, and it would take forever to get them down to science, like Alicia had. So, Alicia relaxed and turned her head towards Myra. Begin Phase 1 of winning the Golden Microphone.

"Psst!" Alicia whispered. Myra looked up, and Alicia continued, "You ok?"

Myra looked puzzled, "Yeah. Why would I not be?"

Alicia pretended to look sad, and continued, "Well, there was all that stuff in the cafeteria, and, you know, all the stuff Massie said about you after."

Myra's eyes narrowed, "Like what?"

Alicia bit her lip, "Well, it started with friendless LBR, and ended with fashion-challenged female dog. You can imagine the in-between. I feel so bad for you. Well, you, Juliette, Trina, your family..."

Myra glared, "She really said that?" Alicia nodded, hoping Myra couldn't see her crossing her fingers. "She's gonna pay. She can't think that she can do that to people." Myra then stalked off, telling Madame she was going to the bathroom, but Alicia saw her pull out her phone as she walked away and start texting furiously. Alicia smirked proudly at her work. Let the games begin!

What do you think? Next chapter is Dylan's point of view, and will probably be out sometime in the first two weeks of March! R&R!


	4. Pinkberry and Criminal Acts

Chapter 4

Westchester, NY

The Mall- Pinkberry

Tuesday, January 24th

12:19 PM

Dylan waltzed into Pinkberry, feeling ridiculously happy. Derrington had texted her in third period asking if she wanted to ditch the New Cafe and come hang out with him for lunch. She replied yes five minutes later, because five minutes was the perfect amount of time to say "I wasn't waiting for you to call or anything, but it's not like I didn't care at all." She missed the days when Derrington went to OCD, and they ate lunch together every day. But, Derrington was the best boyfriend ever, and they still texted and talked all the time. In fact, the only way he could be a better boyfriend was if he finally gave her that long awaited lip-kiss after _three months_ together.

Yes, Dylan was more than a little bit freaked out by the fact that he still hadn't kissed her, when he kissed Massie when they weren't even "together." But, then he'd do something sweet, like take her to a movie and get Mike and Ikes for both of them as their candy, even though only Dylan liked Mike and Ikes. So, Dylan wasn't too worried about it. But, some days she was plagued with all those awful questions: Does he not like me? Is he still into someone else? Worse, is he still into _Massie_? Does he only date me to get close to Massie? But, then Dylan would do her standard worry-away exercise (deep breath, "I'm Dylan Marvil and I'm fabulous," self pep talk, another deep breath), and remember that Derrington had asked _her _to go out.

This whole Pinkberry thing was fabulous, especially considering how awful the first part of the day had been. When the PC had arrived at OCD, there were the usual stares of admiration, but there were also...glares of hatred. Even from LBRs. Dylan had _Strawberry_ give her a haughty look as she walked to class. The PC didn't notice at first, but once they did they started looking at each other in confusion. Well, except for Alicia and Massie. Alicia looked out of it, and Massie had somehow managed to maintain the alpha look, even after all the death stares.

After almost two periods of questions, they finally found their answer. Sitting at Virgins, was Myra, with about five million girls surrounding her. Massie strode up towards the circle, but a small girl named Chrissie stopped them, "What do you think you're doing?"

Massie raised an eyebrow and said, "I'm going to talk to Myra. Have a problem?"

Chrissie looked back, but her confidence was gone, "Um... well, no, I guess."

Massie stepped into the center of the little circle, and Myra lifted her head to look up at her, a smirk across her face, though it was clear she'd been crying, "Hi, Block. What's your problem?"

Massie looked at her, "You tell me. Why does half the school look at me like I'm wearing authentic puppy fur?"

Myra glared at her, "Give up the act, Block. We all know you trashed me and my family while you were gossiping with the MassieDroids. Couldn't at least give me a day to settle in, could you?" The other girls all stopped to give them withering looks.

Massie glared right back, "Lying isn't pretty, Ostenburg. I didn't say anything about you."

Trina stepped up to say, "Massie, come on, we all know you're lying. Myra said-"

Massie interrupted, "Trina, are you a male pit bull?"

Trina shook her head, a confused look on her face, and Massie continued, "Then, why are you defending that bitch?"

The other girls gasped, and Alicia and Kristen smirked at each other. Massie said, "I didn't talk to anyone after school. I was in NYC shopping for a dress. Anyone could tell you." Massie smirked. Some girls nodded; it had been all Massie could talk about in class.

Myra replied, "You may not have talked, but you must have texted. You can stop lying, Massie."

Massie then whipped out her iPhone, and shoved it in the girls' faces. The Recent Activity page was up. Massie hadn't texted anyone since 11 AM the previous morning, long before she'd talked to Myra. Myra balked and the other girls started to look at her with suspicious glares. Soon, most started walking away, whispering things like, "God, how could I nawt see she was lying?" or "How desperate for attention is she?" Or, the best one, "How could we have believed her? I mean, it's her word versus the _Pretty Committee_."

Myra looked at the departing crowd sadly, and stood up, Trina and Juliette following after her. She turned and looked at Massie before she left, "This isn't over."

Massie smirked, " Oh, I know it isn't, Ostenburg. Not by a long shot. It's one thing to call me a bitch, but then to spread lies about me? You're in _way _over your head."

That was the end of today's encounter. But, it scared the crap out of Dylan. It had been so easy for girls to turn against them. What would happen if Massie couldn't just whip out her phone and make everyone believe again?

* * *

Once Dylan had hung up her coat and shopping bags (You can't be in the mall and _nawt_ buy something), she finally found Derrington sitting near the window on his laptop. He looked up and smiled at her, "Hey, Dylan."

"Hey, Derrick. So, what's up today? Making more plays for-"

"Soccer." He smiled that cute cocky grin of his. She loved how they completed each other's sentences sometimes. They were such an It Couple. They would so be together forever, or at least until sophomore year."So, what should we get? Original with Oreos and brownie bits?"

Aw, he remembered her favorite. But, Dylan replied, "Um, sounds good, but how 'bout strawberry and kiwi instead?"

He laughed, "Why? Trying to 'watch your weight'?" He rolled his eyes. A little rush of anger welled up inside Dylan. Was he calling her stupid because she wanted to watch her weight?

So, she replied as calmly as she could, "Um, yeah, I kind of am. Got a problem?"

He looked at her, confused, and said, " Um, no. It's just I thought you were ok with eating dessert and stuff."

She nodded, and said, " Well, yeah I am, but I decided I wanted to stay fit after break, cause I worked out a lot and-"

He looked at her, a scowl suddenly on his face, "Dyl, I thought you weren't one of _those _girls."

She practically yelled back, "What's wrong with caring about how I look? Everyone does. It's not a crime, you know."

"Yeah, but I thought you weren't one of those little princesses, always looking in the mirror, trying to figure out if you need to lose three pounds or not. I thought you weren't Ma-"

"Massie. You thought I wasn't Massie. Well, you're right, I'm not Massie. Because apparently you didn't have a problem with Massie caring about how she looked, because you actually _kissed _her. What, do you like her more than me? Or are you just some asshole who cares about soccer more than your own girlfriend?" Dylan sat there, feeling like she wanted to throw something. Namely that stupid laptop, which was still open.

Very abruptly, Derrington stood up, shut his laptop, and said, "Jesus, Dyl, when did you become such a bitch?" He looked hurt, like a little wounded puppy.

Dylan suddenly felt a swell of remorse. What had this whole stupid thing been about anyway? Fro-yo toppings? "Wait, Derrick! I didn't mean it tha-"

"Yeah, I know you didn't, Dyl. Whatever. Maybe this isn't working out."

"Of course it's working out! It was just one little argument."

"Yeah, one where you called me an ass, criticized me just 'cause I like soccer, and told me you're mad at me just because I kissed Block and didn't kiss you? Yeah, that's little, alright." His voice dripped with sarcasm, " I like you Dyl, but I can't deal with all that. All the jealousy and the drama. Look, we should just... take a break."

"From...eating?"

Derrington looked uncomfortable, "Um, no. You know, us. No hard feelings or anything." Dylan suddenly felt her chest go numb. He started stumbling away quickly, "Uh, bye."

As soon as he walked out, Dylan's heart didn't feel numb anymore. It felt like someone had stomped on it, smashed it to bits, then lit the remaining pieces on fire. She felt so sad she couldn't speak. All she could muster was getting up, washing off her makeup at a sink, texting Massie to tell the office she went home with bad sushi, walking into a bathroom stall, and sobbing. Together forever? In her dreams.

* * *

After almost an hour, Dylan finally had stopped crying. Then, she stood up, walked over to a mirror, and began reapplying the makeup she'd washed off before her cry-fest. After all, Merri-Lee always said the best cure to a broken heart was a great look. And those words must have been true, because somewhere during blush, she stopped feeling sad. By lipliner, she was starting to wonder why she wasted so much time on Derrington. He was so...immature. All he ever did was wiggle his butt and play soccer. He didn't get the makeup or the Pretty Committee or anything that was really important to her. This must be why he and Massie broke up, she thought, because they were on totally different maturity levels, and so were we.

By the time Dylan Marvil walked out of that bathroom, she was a changed girl. She was ready to take on the world. So what if she wasn't with Derrington? He didn't appreciate her, and that was that. Besides, she was liking the way the ditching high-school boys were looking at her, their eyes traveling up and down as she passed.

Not that she needed a guy. No she was totally back on the "Besties Before Boys" thing. After all, now she could devote her time to hanging out with her friends and improving herself by...shopping. Yep, she was so over the whole male gender. Even though she thought a lot of them were cute. Especially that one over-

That was when Dylan ran into the cutest guy she'd ever met in her life. Literally, he ran into her. But, he was definitely worthy of forgiveness. He had these dark green eyes that were really deep, but had a touch of mischief. He had short, messy, brown hair, and was tan, but not so tan you thought he'd been going to a salon. And he was somewhere right in between being scrawny and bodybuilder size, with a six-pack visible through his tight red shirt that made Dylan swoon. Ehmagawd!

As Dylan righted herself, he said, "Hey, you ok? I'm sorry I ran into you, it's just I got so into it and-"

Dylan discreetly straightened her skirt, and threw on a flirty smirk, "Oh, I'm fine. It's just, you could have just said hi to get my attention."

He snorted, and smiled, "You're funny. I like that."

Dylan smiled wider, and continued flirtatiously, "So, does my almost-killer have a name?"

He replied, "The name's Will. What's yours?"

"I'm Dylan."

His brows furrowed together, and he said, after a moment of thought, "Have we met before?"

"No, not as far as I know." Dylan was sure she would have remembered meeting someone so hawt. Seriously, he made Derrington look like a nine-year old. "What school do you go to?"

"Drakewood High." He said, naming the private school most Briarwood boys went to after they graduated. There were really only three options for a Briarwood graduate: Drakewood, ADD, or boarding school. "I'm a freshman there this year." He was an older boy! How could he not be, with abs like that? Much more PC-suitable than her ex. After all, what was good enough for Massie was good enough for her. "Where do you go?"

"I'm in my last year at OCD." Dylan figured this sounded a lot more mature than saying she was an eighth grader, "Did you go to Briarwood?"

"Yeah." They'd begun walking together now, though Dylan wasn't exactly sure where they were going. "Good old Briarwood. That's probably why I thought I met you. I knew a lot of OCD girls." Wait, what was THAT supposed to mean?

Dylan pressed, "Like Skye Hamilton?"

He looked at her like she was nuts, "Skye? Never. I never associated with any of those OCDivas." Who were OCDivas? Would the PC be considered OCDivas? Dylan decided she wouldn't mention her friends for now. "So why are you cutting your incredibly important classes about how to apply lip gloss and do Pilates?"

She whacked him on the arm, "Shut up. I was going out to lunch with my...friend. But, they wound up leaving without me, so I just decided I'd hang out here. Never enough time to shop, you know. What about you?"

He shrugged casually, putting his hands in his pockets, "Ah, I was bored, you know? Everyone at Drakewood's so strict and uptight. There's no time just to have fun. So, I ditched history and came here."

Dylan raised her eyebrows, "_Your_ idea of fun is coming to a mall?"

He laughed, and said in mock seriousness, "You should know not to judge a book by its cover." Dylan stopped and crossed her arms. He rolled his eyes and continued, "But, if you must know, I work at GameStop, so I figured I'd sneak in for some rounds of Rock Band on their Wii."

Dylan bit her lip, "Aren't they closed until four today?"

He smirked, "That's what makes it fun. I have a key, and if anyone asks me about it, I'll just say I'm testing games for them. Trust me, I won't get in trouble." Dylan still wasn't convinced. He must have known it, because then he added, "If you want to, you can come with me. Two is always better than one."

Despite Dylan's issues with lawbreaking, she leaped on the chance. Even a few hours of alone time with her brand new 9th grade crush would be ah-mazing. "Sure. Lead the way."

"I thought you knew your way around the mall." He said.

"Trust me, I do. Just not geeky game stores." Dylan retorted, even though she loved playing Guitar Hero and stuff, just nawt around the PC. That was social suicide.

So, Will walked up to the GameStop's small storefront, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and unlocked the door. She had to admit, no one was in this part of the mall at 2 in the afternoon. She followed him in, and he flipped off the alarm system in seconds. "Follow me," he stage-whispered. He led her back past the 'Employees Only' sign, into a small room, with a couch, a small plasma, and a Wii with guitars hooked up.

They flipped the TV on, and started up the game. She went first, playing "Yellow Submarine," and after that, time was a blur. Somehow, twenty minutes became an hour, and Dylan and Will were goofing around, him purposely missing every note, her flirtatiously trying to hit him with the guitar. "I want to play Hard Day's Night!" Dylan tugged at his guitar.

He started pulling back, but stopped when he saw the clock. "Woah, it's already 3:30. We gotta get out of here, before they get in for inventory." So, they quickly put the guitars away, and she followed him glumly out of the GameStop. Who'd have ever thought video games would make such a great semi-first date? They'd had so much fun, they had lots in common, love of food, jokes, and Pinkberry, and he had proved that even though he was kind of a bad boy, he was cool and funny. Plus, tons of girls dated bad boys who secretly had hearts of gold. Like Blair and Chuck. It was just a status booster.

As they were walking past the fountain, Will stopped and looked at her, and said, "Thanks for coming with me. I don't think I've ever had so much fun cutting school."

She smiled, "Neither have I. We should do it again sometime. Maybe after school though. My mom will flip if I cut school anymore."

He dramatically rolled his eyes, "Ah, young, school-obsessed eighth graders. But, that sounds good, Marvil. You have a pen?" She shuffled around in her purse, and finally found a red pen. He held out his palm, "Write down your phone number." OMGOMGOMG!!! They'd only been on one semi-date, and he wanted her number? She scribbled it on his hand, and he said, "So, I'll call you, but I wanted to ask-" He's asking me to be his girlfriend, she thought, ehmagawd!

"Dylan! Over here!" Massie stood there, the rest of the PC by her side, loaded down with shopping bags. "We're headed to BCBG!"

Dylan stood her ground, "Ignore them. That's just my friends."

Will squinted at them, "Wait... is that...Massie Block?" Suddenly he was shaking his head, scowling. "Should've known." He mumbled, turning away.

"What's wrong?" Dylan said, ignoring the PC's calls.

"I thought you were cool. But, you're one of them." He continued, "An OCDiva. Just another snob who cares about nothing more than her couture and her fake crushes. Now I know where I heard your name. You were one of those popular girls who hung out with Massie." He shook his head in disgust, "You're no better than Skye Hamilton." Before she could defend herself, he walked off with a mumbled, "Later."

Dylan turned around, her face a mask of grim determination. She was not letting two crushes pass her by in one day. No, she would prove she was no OCDiva. Even if that meant...ugh... wearing Gap.

* * *

Hey! R&R! Next Up...Kristen! Soccer tryouts begin!


	5. Table 8 and Tryouts

**A/N: Ugh, I'm sooo sorry it's been so long since my last post. Track and school are slowly killing me. But, here is Kristen's piece of the story. (Sorry, this chapter isn't that long. I mostly just had to get everything in place, because Kristen will be important later.)**

Chapter 5

Westchester, NY

The OCD Soccer Field

Thursday, January 26th

3:12 PM

Kristen Gregory was extremely glad to be in her element and on the soccer field. She had been chosen as captain, and the short-lived spring soccer season at OCD started early. It was an unusually warm day for late January, warm enough that Kristen wasn't freezing in her Juicy sweats as she started tryouts. As she felt the sun beat down on her, her shoulders relaxed, and all the stress that had been eating at her finally eased up. The last two days had just been more of the same, and the same sucked.

Now , no matter what, there were always ten or twelve girls glaring at them angrily. Myra's table always seemed to be overflowing, while the tables surrounding the PC that had once been full were now fairly empty. And, on Wednesday, Massie dropped the bomb, "Ok, Kristen, we've voted on tables, and all of us have decided that you can sit at Table 8, Table 11, or Table 3."

Kristen glanced at the tables, and considered her choices. Table 8 was a Myra fan club. She'd probably be killed by them. Table 11 was Layne's table, with a bunch of other outcasts. It may have been the most bearable table, but it was also a magnet for quips from Massie. Table 3 was a total LBR table, which was where Bill Gates and the rest of the computer geeks sat, along with a few geekettes. She hated all her choices, and wanted to scream that she just wanted to sit with the PC and for things to be normal, but she knew she just had to serve her sentence quietly. Maybe she'd get time off for good behavior.

"I choose Table...um..."

But, then Alicia interrupted, "Hey, Kristen, why don't you talk with me at Virgins?" When Massie looked at Alicia, she said, "I'll just...point her the right way for her decision." Massie grudgingly nodded, as if to tell them to go on, even though she didn't like it.

Kristen accepted gladly, as she was now out of her own personal hot seat. As they walked to the counter, Alicia asked, "So, do you think it's unfair, the way Massie's treating you?"

Kristen bit her lip, "Uh...well-"

Alicia faced her, eyes wide with sincerity, "You can tell me the truth. I swear, Massie will never hear a word."

Kristen thought for a second. Alicia was a notorious gossip, but she seemed honest. She decided she'd try and stay on the cautious side. "Kind of. I think it's a little unfair to punish me for liking someone, but I'm not going to argue with Massie."

Alicia nodded, and said, "Look, I don't really think it's very nice either. I mean, who's she, telling you who to love?"

Kristen slowly smiled, "You're right. But, I can't tell her off. I don't want to go through all this drama again."

Alicia said, "Well, just hang in there. I puh-romise things will be ok. Massie will get over it. But, I got you a little present, for your suffering." Alicia pulled out a necklace with a cute little soccer ball charm hanging off of it. "Wear this every day you serve your lunchtime exile. It'll help you stay strong. Or, just where it whenever. But, you know make sure to wear it on your 'other lunch' days."

Kristen cocked an eyebrow, "Why?"

Alicia said, "Um, Massie helped me pick it out. It's going in your public gift bag at the party. She'll totally go easy on you if she sees you wearing it."

Kristen relaxed a little. Alicia was just being a good friend, unlike some people. She clasped it on her neck, and asked, "So, you know which table she wants me to pick?"

Alicia said, "Table 8."

Kristen was confused, "Why Table 8? She hates Myra and her LBRs."

Alicia then said, like she was explaining something to a preschooler, "She wants you to tell us what goes on over there. What they like so much about Myra. How to turn them against her. All of that." Now Kristen had figured it all out. Massie had set her up to go to Table 8, to be her own personal spy. Kristen grimaced. She wasn't pleased that Massie not only expected her to willingly go into exile, she expected her to play spy too. Whatever. She'd go over there, but she wasn't going to do anything else. She was Kristen Gregory for Gucci's sake, soccer player extraordinaire, leader of the Witty Committee, and girlfriend of the cutest do-gooder at Briarwood. She wasn't letting anyone mess around with her.

* * *

So, Kristen dutifully sat at the table on Wednesday, and was informed she'd sit there every Monday as well. But, Kristen kept her self-promise and didn't tell Massie anything that went on, or whine about how much she hated sitting with people who despised her. She refused to give Massie the satisfaction.

There was lots of gossip at Table 8. Most of it was about Myra, who was whispered about as if she was on the cover of every magazine, but some PC gossip filtered down. Most of it was about the Sweet 14 Massie had hinted at throwing. There was lots about whether they would be invited, whether Myra would be invited, if she would show up if she was, if _they _would bother if they didn't. Lots of boring, pointless stuff. She'd rather be talking about the Secret Life. Anything was better than this. Really, Massie could just give her that flat, cold, look all of lunch. She hated how they treated her, but anything was better than this.

The mistreatment didn't just extend to lunch. In class, Massie and Dylan would be giggling over notes she'd never get. Gossip Kristen had didn't count in the gossip points tally. Her rating never hit higher than an 8.8, no matter how cute her outfit was. She received tons of jabs about her frumpy clothes from the morning. Even Alicia, who'd been so nice that first day, didn't bother to try and talk, except at Massie-approved times. Now she knew exactly how Claire had felt, why she'd sent those fake-Massie IMs. When you were an outsider among your own "friends," you were desperate for someone to be nice for a change.

So, out on the soccer field, Kristen felt happy and free. Out here she was the boss. No one ignored her or hated her. They just played, and that was better than anything.

As the future Siren hopefuls lined up in front of her, Kristen sized them up. There were a few girls, like Alana Shanebury, who tried out just because this was another thing they put on an application. Sure, they had the toned calves, but they had no devotion. They didn't care if the team sucked or not, they just played because it would look on their college stuff. Considering they were only in the 8th, it was kind of stupid. Kristen sighed. She'd probably take one of them, just because they were decent.

She scanned the rest of the row. The overweights, the goths, the girls-who-suck-at-everything-else, and then the real soccer players. The girls who she'd played with since she was 6 years old. They had drive, determination, talent, and devotion. They were all awesome. And then, as her eyes casually flicked down the rest of the row, she stopped dead. There, in soccer shorts, professional-grade cleats, and a gleam in her eye, stood Myra.

Kristen was surprised, but she hid it well. She started her speech, acting as if nothing had happened, "Alright, girls. I'm Kristen Gregory, for those of you who don't know, and I'm also captain." A few of her soccer friends giggled at her strangely formal speech. Kristen wanted to laugh too, but Coach would skin her alive if she didn't act serious. "Thanks to all of you for coming out. Soccer's a hard and demanding sport. In other words, if you're a wimp, you can leave now." They giggled again at the improv; they'd all heard the speech a million times from the previous captains. Kristen took a deep breath, and continued, "So, today we're going to do drills, play a mock game, and place you in positions. We're accepting 10 girls. So, good luck and play hard! Two warm-up laps to start us off!" The girls dashed off along the track surrounding the field, and Kristen ran off to catch up with her friends.

"That was hilarious, Gregory!" Penelope Turner said. "I mean, it's so weird to see_ you_ up there as captain!"

Taya Hertz amended, "Not that you're bad or anything. It's just, we've always watched like, Bebe Donner give that speech." Bebe Donner was the superstar who'd gone off to play for some private school that had won the national championship. She had been the captain forever.

Kristen laughed, "Whatever. It was awkward up there. Don't know how Donner kept up a straight face." They sped up, and then moved on past warm-ups to drills.

As Kristen demonstrated, she had to admit, it felt good to lead. To have everyone watch what she was doing, and try and do it the exact same way. Maybe that's how Massie felt about OCD. Still, it didn't exactly make her feel sympathetic. _She_ wasn't a total female dog to all her so-called friends.

_Focus_, she thought. So instead of stressing she moved on to inspecting the girls. Alana and her group were average. They were horrible at dribbling. Her friends, of course, were ah-mazing, as usual. The newbies were struggling. Even Myra obviously didn't have tons of experience. Their back-and-forth passes were sloppy, and they needed to improve their footwork. But, some of them had potential, and they were the best she had.

The mock game went well. They were going to have to work their butts off before their big rivalry game against Mason, but they could do it. They had a good bunch this year. The only problem would be choosing. She would have to announce thirty minutes after practice who she had chosen. Normally Coach would help make the decisions, but she was on vacation in the Bahamas until Monday, and she had said that Kristen was responsible enough to make the cuts. She'd known her since she was a Peewee Soccer player. After all, if she didn't like Kristen's choices, she could just get somebody else.

She sat down at the table, trying to ignore the winks and whispered bribes from girls. She looked at the playbook. She wrote names, imagined how plays would work. Tried to look at them through the eyes of a coach, and not a classmate. Finally, 45 minutes later, she stood up, and faced the adoring masses.

"Ok, you were all fabulous, but the job of the captain is to pick the best of the best, so...if I call your name, come up, take a jersey, and go. If your name is not called, you're playing second string. Ok, Bethany Schwartz. Goalie." Bethany was one of her friends, and she'd been playing Sirens goalie since sixth. "Taya Hertz, Kelly Milano, central midfielders. Felicity Temple, Kelsey Gage, fullbacks. Penelope Turner, Becca Delay, wingers. Danielle Finn, defensive midfielder. Dana Cruz, striker and...Myra Ostenburg, sweeper. I play forward. We start tomorrow. Thanks again for coming!" It had been hard to put her on the team. What would Massie think? But, she was one of the better players and she had to think about the team as a whole.

Myra came up by her as she was walking to get her bag off the side of the pitch. She smiled and said, "Hey, I'd just like to say thanks. For...well, not letting personal differences get in the way of this."

Kristen gave a quick nod, and said, "Well, I'm captain, not Massie. I can't cut people just because Massie doesn't like them. I have morals."

Myra smiled, 'Yeah, well, I don't think everyone would've thought like that. Hey, I'm heading over to Kings with Juliet to celebrate. I know this is probably against MassieDroid programming, but...you want to come?"

Kristen thought for a minute. Kings was the fabulous new cafe that everyone raved about. Even Massie said it was ah-mazing. Plus, even with the jab, Myra honestly seemed like she was trying to be nice...unlike some people she knew. "Yeah. Sure." Myra smiled, and Kristen followed her up the hill, off the field, and into uncharted territory.

* * *

"You did nawt!"

"Oh, but I did!" Myra giggled. Juliet and Kristen laughed too, sipping their virgin margaritas. Kristen was surprised by how much fun she was actually having. Myra was the opposite of Massie in leadership, the Spandex to Massie's Lycra. She was pretty funny, too. But, the thing she liked the most was how understanding she was. Everyone else seemed to think she deserved PC probation, but Myra got just how stupid it was.

"Wait, so...your 'friend' makes you a slave, just because her crush liked you?" Myra said, shaking her head. "Wow, this place is _way_ different than Colorado. That's just so...bitchy."

Kristen started to defend Massie, but then she realized: Why should she? Massie _had_ been a bitch to her, for no reason. Why did she deserve Kristen's loyalty? After all, Myra had been nicer to her than Massie had, and Myra was her enemy. Myra continued, "You know, you don't have to listen to her. You could sit with other friends."

Kristen raised her eyebrows, "Who?"

Myra giggled, "Us, silly!" She turned serious, "Look, Kristen, you're nice, you're smart, and you're pretty. Why listen to someone who tries to make you feel inferior? I know she's your friend, but if you decide she's nawt, come sit with us. There's always a seat open."

Kristen nodded, "I'll be there." Maybe Massie would finally realize that Kristen wasn't just some slave to the PC. Maybe she'd realize that Kristen had other options.

**R&Rness... Coming Soon-Claire!**


End file.
